


A Not So Joyful Reunion

by Usedtobehmc



Series: Life After the War [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usedtobehmc/pseuds/Usedtobehmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy has something major to apologize for.  </p><p>This is the first chapter in the "Life After the War" Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hope

 

Spy checked and re-checked his information but there was no doubt: this was the location he was looking for. Spelled out on this small piece of paper, obtained for him by one of his reliable sources, were the co-ordinates of a small patch of land in Northern Australia. Rumor was, that's where his target could be found. Spy stubbed out his cigarette, trying to resist to urge to immediately light another one and failing. His nerves were shot.

He ran a hand through his hair, still unaccustomed to the feel of it on his bare fingers even after three years. All that time wearing a balaclava had almost changed his image of himself completely, to one of flesh constructed almost entirely of fabric that stretched and conformed. It had been BLU's idea; the mask had not ever been something he routinely wore before they'd hired him. He had thought it comical and ridiculous. Why would a spy wear something that announced loudly to the world that he was a spy? But the company insisted, and the technology involved made the mask easy to ignore. Funny, now that he didn't have to wear it, he missed it just a little.

Making travel arrangements had always been dreadfully boring, but in the back of his mind lurked the promise of seeing *him* again. And it made the technical details just a little easier to endure.

  
**********

  
Paris was enveloped in a lovely layer of snow, and as his plane took off, Spy gazed down at the buildings and street dusted in white and felt a pang of longing. It would be a very long journey to Alice Springs. It would take multiple planes, and amount to about two straight days of traveling. But it was worth it. Worth it to see him again. To say he was sorry. To have him in his arms.

Spy was getting ahead of himself. There was a good chance that Sniper wouldn't even want to talk to him, let alone accept his apology.

He and Sniper had not parted on good terms. And Spy knew that he himself bore the entirety of the blame.

If Spy was a man of few words, the Sniper was practically mute. So the idea that they'd leave the war together and start some semblance of a life had remained… well… unspoken. Unofficial. Not as if the alternative was to have it written in blood; some sort of binding contract. But the excuse Spy clung to at the time was that they'd never agreed on anything out loud. So how could he be held responsible for breaking a promise never made?

Flimsy. But it was all he had to cling to besides knee-knocking fear.

Their last night together had been amazing. The war was over after what seemed like an eternity and the entire team was giddy with anticipation. Sniper and Spy had leapt at the chance to sneak away from the impromptu festivities and lock themselves up in the sniper nest with a bottle of wine from Spy's personal stash. They'd done things that night that made Spy blush to think about even today, three years later. Sniper had held him down and mapped every inch of skin, fingers and tongue prodding every inch, tasting and biting until Spy had been forced to wrestle his way on top, screaming, "Enough!" Sniper had laughed at him; a deep, hoarse laugh that vibrated through the both of them and became contagious. Suddenly they were both laughing and wrestling, trying not to get an elbow or a knee anywhere too delicate as they play-fought for the top position.

Spy lost the wrestling match. Sniper credited the victory to being in better shape, but Spy knew it was because seeing the gruff man actually smile and laugh made him shiver like a schoolgirl.

And it made him feel even more terrible about what he was planning to do.

He let Sniper fuck him that night; a first for them. Sniper was amazing, taking his time, bringing them both to the edge and then back. Tender at first, and then not at all. He became a wild animal, grunting and biting; marking the Spy as his. Claiming him.

Spy was sore and exhausted when he suggested they finally open the bottle of wine. A harmless sedative in Sniper's glass ensured that the hunter would be knocked out until the next day with not even a headache to show for it.

Spy had suddenly found himself fully dressed while Sniper lay unconscious on his cot, snoring lightly. Spy tucked him in, arranging him so he would wake up well-rested and secured the blanket around his shoulders. He kissed Sniper's forehead and said his goodbyes.

It was the single most cowardly thing he'd ever done.

Forcing himself back to the present, Spy waved over a Stewardess and ordered a stiff drink.

  
******************

  
54 hours later, Spy felt that his eyeballs had turned to sandpaper and his brain to mush.

It was unnatural for humans to travel so far. It was against God's will. How humans ever survived before air travel was beyond his ability to comprehend.

When he arrived in Alice Springs, even a full six hours of sleep at a nearby motel had done little to erase the toll that 10,000 miles had wrought.

And the *heat.* Paris being in the clutches of winter meant that Australia was enjoying a "modest summer" according to the woman he'd rented a room from. Spy kept his sour attitude in check, refrained from eviscerating her and stocked up on ice.

But now was the morning of his main objective and there was even more traveling to be done.

He rented a car with a fake ID and bought a road map. He marveled at how little space humans actually took up in this country.

A stranger peeked over his shoulder and asked, "What's all the way out there? Area's not really tourist-friendly."

Spy grumbled at being interrupted. "I'm meeting someone, if it's any of your business."

She raised her hands, "Alrighty then, mate."

******************

5 hours passed quickly, in direct contrast with the rest of the trip.

A speck on the distance made Spy's stomach do a flip. As he neared, he realized there was no driveway and parked his car on the side of the road.

He could see the back of the camper van sticking out from behind the house. A modest, one level shack with an outdoor toilet.

Spy chuckled; it was perfect for Sniper.

He dragged his forearm across his brow, sporting a few beads of sweat in the stagnant heat. He said a quick prayer to whatever god may have been listening and got out of the car, shedding his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

He hadn't remembered a gift. Shit. In the midst of his panic, he shook his head and reminded himself that Sniper would probably have laughed and punched him in the face if he'd brought a gift. Such a cliché, and they were not "gift people" anyway.

"Ne pas être un lâche," he scolded himself.

The house was a good half-mile from the road; by the time Spy reached the front door he had a pretty substantial full-body sweat going. He fixed his hair, dabbed his brow with his sleeve and knocked on the door. "Please be here."

 

*************

  
 _Mon Dieu_ , Spy thought. _He's beautiful._

The wilderness and sunshine and heat had clearly been good to Sniper. He'd answered the door in a pair of jeans and nothing else and Spy was stunned into a temporary swoon like he hadn't felt in years. The hunter looked as though he'd been cut from marble; tanned and smooth and perfect. Darker than he'd ever been in the States, with a few freckles dusting his shoulders. He even had more muscle mass, obviously the result of living off the land all by himself.

Spy allowed himself the briefest of glances down, taking in the sight of Sniper's trim waist and those legs that seemed to go on for miles. He'd made fun of Sniper for being all legs on more than one occasion, but in truth it was something he always found attractive.

Whereas Spy felt a blush rise to his face, as soon as Sniper laid eyes on him the hunter's face went stone cold.

Spy made a mad, desperate attempt at a sentence. "I… it's been a while."

Silence.

"I've come to… I really wanted to… see you. It… it's been a while." _Fucking idiot_ , he thought, hating himself.

Sniper glanced to his left, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "You've got 30 seconds."

Spy's heart fluttered; his voice. He missed that low, carnivorous sound. "I think it will take longer than that to say what I've come to say."

"Not 30 seconds to talk, _mate_." He spat the last word, clearly using it in favor of another 4-letter word. "30 seconds to run before I come back with a gun and start shootin'."

And then he slammed the door.

As great as the urge to weep like a child was, Spy shoved it aside and knocked on the door again. "Please," he shouted. "I've done wrong, but I've come to explain myself. I need… I need you and I can't deny it any longer."

Silence. Then from behind the door, "You've got 10 seconds now!"

"Merde!" Spy took off running in the direction of his car, and a few seconds later heard Sniper's front door open.

The deafening sound of a shot rang out and he felt rather than heard the zipping of a bullet whipping past. "Jesus!" The car was so close, he was almost safe.

Another gunshot, and a sharp pain bloomed in his right calf, sending him hurtling into the dirt face-first. Besides the pulling of every single muscle in his upper body as he hit the ground, he recognized the pain of being shot all to well: at first it just felt like being punched. The sting and burn of the actual bullet only registered in your body seconds later. His hands automatically reached down to clamp on it, trying to staunch the flow of blood, and he writhed in pain until Sniper's shadow fell across his prone body.

Spy took deep, gasping breaths as he gazed up, squinting against the blinding hot sun. When the Sniper made no move to finish him off, Spy dared to ask, "Now can we talk?"

Sniper let his rifle rest against his shoulder and reached out the with other hand. "Let's have a look at that wound."

Spy gratefully took the offered hand and hung on Sniper's shoulders as he limped back towards the house.

 

  
TBC


	2. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy asks for forgiveness.

 

 

He found himself dumped unceremoniously on a rather large and surprisingly comfortable over-stuffed chair.  It happened to be the only chair in the one-room shack and he was about to inquire where Sniper would sit but his question was answered when the taller man pulled up a box ( _a box_ ) and sat in front of him with a first aid kit.  

 

"You can take off your trousers or I can cut 'em."  Sniper looked at him with a stone face, betraying no preference either way.  

 

Spy sighed, a silent eulogy for his tailored suit running through his mind.  He did not want to stand back up the shuck off his pants.  "Just cut it, the whole thing is destroyed anyway."  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand and leaned back in the chair with a heaving breath.  He cringed at the sound of scissors splitting fabric and observed the room around him to distract himself.  Through the fog of pain, he tried to focus on the little details of the shack that would give him clues as to how Sniper was living since they'd last seen each other.

 

The fact that there was not much around told a more detailed story than a house full of memories could possibly.  The shack was Spartan in decoration, utilizing only the simplest of furniture with the most practical of uses.  There was a wood-burning stove in one corner, a foot locker against the far wall, a trunk that was open to display what was probably every piece of clothing Sniper owned, a cot with a single pillow and a thin sheet on the left wall, and a table with a radio.  Spy was happy to see a bookshelf full of books, all worn down from multiple readings.  

 

"Where do you keep your food?"  He asked, forgetting himself for a moment.

 

"Why, you 'ungry?"  Sniper asked without looking up, cradling the Spy's calf gently in his hands.  

 

In an instant, Spy was shocked by both the answer and the careful way Sniper inspected the bullet wound.  "Non, just wondering."

 

"I usually go out every day for food.  Doesn't keep long.  I do have water.  Bullet went right through."  Transitional conversation be damned, Sniper reached for the antiseptic and a needle and thread and set about cleaning the injury while Spy flinched and swore in French.  At least he wouldn't have to dig around for the bullet.

 

Spy tried his damnedest not to jerk around too hard while Sniper worked but he was a bit out of practice at being shot.  "I can't believe you shot me."  Petulant, but Spy felt he had a right to the tone.  

 

"Shot you?  For what you did, I can't believe I didn't _kill_ you.  And I'm patchin' you up, aren't I?  Count your bloody blessings."  Sniper snatched his own hat off his head and threw it to the corner, perhaps in place of smacking Spy across the face.  He'd actually done that before when they'd first started this relationship, to which Spy had answered with a crippling punch to the solar plexus.  To be fair, the fight followed a long and embarrassing defeat and they had both been very cranky.  

 

Spy flinched once more as Sniper took up the needle again.  "That brings me back to why I came," he spoke gently.  Sniper *had* to hear his apology.

 

"Don't say another bloody word.  I don't want to hear it,"  he grumbled, still cupping Spy's calf with that maddeningly steady, warm hand.  "Soon as I've sewn you up, I want you to leave and never darken my doorstep again."

 

"Let me speak, you infuriating man!" 

 

For a moment, he thought Sniper might throw him out.  There was a horrifying pause, then an almost imperceptible shrug of the shoulders.  "State your case."  He murmured, poking the needle through flesh again.  

 

It was at this moment that Spy realized he hadn't actually prepared what he wanted to say.  He'd have to wing it.  "Leaving you… especially the way I did… it was the biggest mistake of my life.  I was terrified.  I was a coward.  I am so sorry."

 

Sniper scoffed.  "You don't know how humiliated I was.  You know who woke me up?  _Scout_.  He was actually worried I was going to miss the last train out.  And I had to… to pretend me heart wasn't breaking.  Thought maybe you'd be waiting outside for me.  Kept waiting for you to smoke in behind me like it was a joke.  Then I realized how stupid I was to assume you'd want anything to do with me after the contracts were up."

 

Spy felt three inches tall.  "That's not true.  I wanted a life with you.  I still do.  I've thought of you every day."

 

"I only just _stopped_ thinking of you every day.  And then you just… show up.  Out of nowhere like always."  With one final stitch, Sniper finished his work.  With the final application of a bandage, Spy's leg was mended.  Sniper didn't look up.

 

Spy was being too bold, this he knew.  But he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and linking his fingers behind Sniper's head, cradling his skull in the tenderest way he could manage.  If he was about to be forcibly removed from the house, he truly did have nothing to lose by trying.  "Lawrence…"  Damn it, if only his throat didn't feel like it was about to close up.  "I want to spend the rest of my life making up for the terrible thing I did.  I'm begging you for a chance.  Please…"

 

Sniper brought up his hands and smacked Spy's arms away from him.  He finally looked up, eyes shiny with emotion.  "You've got no right to ask me for another chance," he hissed.

 

"I know."

 

"Three years and not a bloody word and you show up unannounced asking me to just forgive you and pretend you didn't _drug and abandon me_ \--"  he was shouting now.

 

"I know."

 

Sniper grabbed him by the collar.  "It's not fair.  You make me _weak_.  You _wanker_ , you know you make me weak--"  

 

And before Spy knew it, they were kissing, angry and hot.  

 

 

********************

 

 

Spy's heart felt as though it would burst with happiness.  Having Sniper in his arms again felt so good, so right… Sniper was warm and strong and he smelled so _good_ \--  Adrenaline surged through his body and made his fingers twitch and shake.  God damn him, he could have had this all along if he hadn't been so cowardly.  

 

The kiss was starting to morph into a kind of silent argument; every time Spy tried to take initiative or control of the kiss, Sniper would yank it away from him again, overpowering him.  In the past, Spy would have grabbed him by his ears and wrestled him to the bed (or the floor, whichever was more convenient) and given him a fair fight, but today was different.  Sniper could have whatever he wanted, in whatever way.  Spy relented, letting Sniper kiss him as angrily and aggressively as he wanted.  

 

Their teeth clicked together more than once, but it didn't phase them.  Spy felt his lips begin to feel raw from rubbing against Sniper's ever-present scruff, but he welcomed the burn and savored the feeling.  

 

Sniper suddenly broke the kiss and stood, hauling Spy up by his collar again.  Face to face, Spy clung Sniper, eyes drifting shut at the pleasure of feeling the full lengths of their bodies against each other once more.  It had been too long.  The smooth expanse of Sniper's naked back under his hands sent shivers up his spine.  

 

"I missed you, you stupid fool."  Sniper whispered, snaking both arms around Spy and squeezing.  "I am absolutely fucked," he sighed. 

 

Spy took Sniper's face in his hands and kissed him.  "Je suis désolé."  A peck on the lips.  "Je t'adore."  Another kiss.  "Je t'aime."

 

Something in Sniper seemed to crumble and he buried one hand in Spy's hair while the other gripped his body tightly.  "Love you too.  But m'not sorry I shot you." 

 

Spy laughed.

 

 

*****************


	3. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper has to say goodbye to his parents. It doesn't go well.

 

  
Spy lay his head on Sniper's bare shoulder and made sure to keep his cigarette from dropping ash on either of them.  He took a deep, contemplative puff and watched the smoke lazily drift to the ceiling of Sniper's cabin.  

"Will you come to France with me?"  

"Course."  Came the sleepy reply, confirmed that Sniper was indeed still awake.  "Can't stay here.  Not unless we wanna risk life in prison."  

Spy hummed with disapproval.  " _Ridicule_."

"Have to say goodbye to my parents first.  I don't reckon I'll see them again.  They're gonna want to know why I'm taking off to France.  And I'll have to tell them."

"Why would you not see them again?"  Spy placed his cigarette on the bedside table's ashtray and pulled himself closer.

"My dad'll disown me.  I know he will.  He's a stubborn, mean old fool and he won't think twice about it."

"How do you know?"

Sniper thought for a moment and sighed, voice heavy with emotion.  "He made it clear once.  When I was eleven."

"When you were eleven?  My god, what could you possibly have done?"

Sniper picked up Spy's abandoned cigarette and smoked for the first time since his teenage years.  "I wanted to play footy with the other lads and my dad finally gave in and brought me to the local park.  Wasn't much for sports back then; I was always skinny but hadn't hit the growth spurt yet."  

Spy smiled and let his thumb trace over Sniper's hipbone.  

Sniper adjusted his arm around Spy's shoulders and continued.  "There was a group of older boys, must have been teenagers, around 17 or so.  One of them took his shirt off and… well I couldn't stop staring.  I was only eleven, I had no idea that I was, well.  The way I am.  Just a kid.  And I saw something that I liked, even without knowing it.  And my dad saw me looking.  Grabbed me by the chin and said,"  Sniper affected a rougher and thicker accent.  "' _If I ever catch you starin' at a boy again, I'll snap your neck myself.  You are not a god-damn poof.'_ Got a beatin' that night as well, just to drive the point home, I suppose."  Sniper finished the cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

Spy frowned sadly, laying a warm hand on Sniper's chest.  

Sniper chuckled suddenly, rubbing at the wrinkle between his eyebrows where a headache was forming.  "I hate to think of what he woulda done if he'd caught me kissing Jeremy Coughlin four years later."

That got Spy smirking a little.  "What a brave little bush-child you must have been."  

"Horny, more like.  Nothing stops a 15-year-old boy with an itch."

"We'll go together.  No matter what happens, I will be there.  Oui?"

"Oui."  Sniper answered, laying a kiss on Spy's temple.  

 

**********

 

Spy ended up waiting in the Camper outside the Mundy residence for just under an hour before Sniper stormed back out, slamming the screen door behind him.  Spy saw him shove his akubra back on his head and stomp to the driver's side door, where he angrily shoved himself into the driver's seat.  

Spy said nothing, instead waiting for Sniper to get his breath back.  The taller man was red with anger, hands shaking with unreleased rage.  

"I'm out."  Sniper finally hissed.  "Out of the family.  He called me a… and SHE didn't even say anything.  She just SAT there and listened.  Let him say those things.  Let me walk out."  
  
Spy felt very small and useless, but he put a hand on Sniper's leg to somehow keep him on Earth.  

It worked.  Sniper turned and looked Spy in the eyes.  "I'm not a failure," he insisted.

"No."  Spy answered.

"I'm not… an abomination or a diseased deviant or… or anything like that."

Spy shook his head.  

"My dad's a miserable old idiot.  And we should be going."  Sniper started the van and wasted no time getting them back onto a main road.  

 

**********

 

They drove for a few minutes in silence before Sniper spoke.  "When we get to France, I'm going to send a postcard to my Mum.  Don't like how we left it."

"Of course."  

"Can I ask you something?"  He spoke again in a quieter and somewhat calmer voice.  "You scared?"

Spy took a moment.  Here they were, an Australian assassin and an expert in international espionage.  Settling down in Paris together after serving several years in a war during which they killed each other hundreds of times.  Were they ridiculous?  Was this even possible?  Could they stand to live together without the constant violence and mayhem to distract them?  

"Terrified, actually."  Spy finally responded.  "This is new territory for both of us."  He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and lit one with smooth, practiced movements.  

"Don't leave me again, René.  I couldn't take it."  

Spy's heart went cold.  "Pull over this minute.  NOW."  

Sniper did as requested, but refused to meet Spy's eyes once they'd come to a stop.  The silence was unbearable.  

Spy placed himself firmly in Sniper's lap and held that long, handsome face in his hands.  "You're stuck with me.  There will be no getting rid of me after this.  Three years ago I made the biggest mistake of my life and almost lost this forever, but never again.  I've lost much in my life; too much.  I've told you everything about me.  You are one of approximately ten people on the planet who know my real name.  Fewer than that are living who have seen me with and without my mask.  You know…"  He swallowed.  "You know about Compiègne and..."  Spy's voice broke just a bit, but it was enough: Sniper snaked his arms around the Frenchman's waist and held him close.  Spy took a deep breath and pushed the memories back.  "The point is, everything about me is yours.  You have me.  Forever."

Sniper nodded.  "Alright.  That'll do just fine."

 

 

 

*****

 

 


	4. Illustrations by FuryLordOfDerp!!!

These Beautiful Illustrations were done by [FuryLordOfDerp](furlordofder.tumblr.com)!!!  Go to their blog and give them praise!!!

 

 

 

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